


Tomorrow

by Plus1STR



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Femslash, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plus1STR/pseuds/Plus1STR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Peggy returns from a mission, she notices Angie's missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Amanhã](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317676) by [Rosetta (Melime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melime/pseuds/Rosetta)



Peggy unstrapped herself from her seat as soon as the plane landed, straightening out her clothes and patiently waiting for the hold bay doors to open. All she wanted after her trip was to take a load off; go to the diner, have her usual, chat with her favourite person about all that had happened in New York while she was away, and top it all off with a good night’s rest.

This had all become routine for Peggy. She’d get sent off on assignments for extended periods of time, typically ones that involved being shot at, and return to a job well done and stories of Angie’s auditions. It had always been exhausting though, between the traveling and the bullets and bludgeoning people. But the thing that had weighed so heavily on Peggy’s mind, what had kept her up at night while away, was having to lie to Angie; having to leave out huge chunks of detail to ensure the girl’s safety.

Angie was always understanding though. After having to put on a performance for the boys at the SSR, Peggy had promised they’d sit down and have a conversation about Peggy’s career choice. And so they did. Angie hadn’t been the most understanding about Dot kissing her, but she was willing to look past all of that considering Dot had also attempted to kill her. Peggy hadn’t been as forthcoming with information as Angie had hoped, but Angie understood that whatever it was that Peggy did was dangerous and had to be handled with care and caution. She never pried too far into the agent’s work life and tried to give Peggy the space she needed to breathe no matter how difficult it was for her to not wrap Peggy up in a hug and never let her go. And Peggy understood that about Angie and appreciated it far more than she could ever put into words. She never quite got it though; why Angie was so patient with her, why she was so caring.

When the hold bay doors opened, Peggy was escorted back to the SSR and suddenly found herself on auto-pilot. She was debriefed, returned her gear to lockup, conversed with her fellow agents, and started sorting through stacks of idle paperwork. She figured by the time her shift ended, she’d be able to swing by the diner, grab a bite to eat, and convince Angie to stay the night with her instead of returning to the Griffith. Miriam Fry had become all but murderous towards Peggy after having her building swarmed with federal agents and discovering that her former tenant had dug a hole into her wall, so Peggy did her best to avoid the older woman all together.

As time winded down, Peggy grabbed her things and made her way out of the building and to the street, hailing herself a cab. She’d only been gone for a month and a half this time, but she knew Angie would quote a play or a film, all rather dramatically, and tell her it had been ages. The last time, it was Shakespeare. When Peggy stepped into the diner, the actress had all but flung herself at her and squished Peggy’s cheeks between her hands. When Peggy tried to speak out in protest, Angie hushed her and recited The Merry Wives of Windsor in the cheesiest English accent she could muster. “Have I caught thee, my heavenly jewel? Why, now let me die, for I have lived long enough.”

This time, however, it had been different. There was no sudden hug. There was no happy chatter. No overly dramatic, chipper reciting of some old play that Peggy wouldn’t have bothered reading if Angie hadn’t asked her to. In fact, Angie was in sight. Assuming she was behind the counter, sorting out an order, Peggy sat in a booth and waited. And waited. And waited, until a waitress she’d never seen before asked if she was ready to order.

“Miss?” the stranger asked trying to grab Peggy’s drifting gaze.

“My apologies,” Peggy gave a soft smile, looking down at the menu in front of her before returning the waitress’ stare. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be rude. Is Angie here? It’s just that she’s usually the one that sets me up.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Ang doesn’t work here anymore. Not for nearly a month now.”

Before Peggy could come up with dozens of awful scenario’s that could have happened to Angie, she analyzed the girl’s face, searching for any signs of sadness or grief or anything that would confirm her sudden feelings of panic. Thankfully, she found none.

“Did something happen?”

“Ya know I’m not too sure. I haven’t been workin’ here too long,” the young waitress replied, noticing the frown developing across Peggy’s lips. “But the boys in the kitchen said somethin’ ‘bout her tryin’ to make it to the big leagues. She wanted to be an actress, ya know.”

“Right.” Peggy nodded, her gaze fallen down into her lap.

“Can I get ya anything anyway, miss?”

“No, thank you. Terribly sorry about the trouble.” And with that, the waitress smiled politely and carried on with her job. Peggy rose from the booth, popped her signature red hat back on her head, and left the diner. If Angie wasn’t working at the diner anymore, Peggy knew she must have landed something big. The sweet waitress mentioned Angie had only been gone for a month. Surely she’d still be at the Griffith.

Peggy found herself in the back of the same cab, making her way to the Griffith. Her unfocused gaze fell to the window; the buildings all began to blur together, turning into reddish rectangles and grey shapes. Angie was always there to greet her when she got back from her travels. Always so cheery and bubbly. The change of routine threw Peggy off.

The cab slowly rolled in front of the Griffith and the driver turned to Peggy. “Should I wait for ya?” The voice snapped Peggy back into reality and out of her head.

“Yes, please,” she threw back to him as she exited the cab and made her way into the Griffith.

A few of the women stopped when they saw Peggy and exchanged a few greetings; some gave her a quick nod, others hugged her. Peggy made her way to the front desk, easily recognizing the older woman whose attention was on a slip of paper she was jotting a few things down on. At first, Peggy lightly coughed, hoping to get the woman’s attention, but remembering the cab waiting outside, she tapped the bell sitting on the counter. Miriam Fry looked up at Peggy with an expression of very clear annoyance. “Miss Carter.”

“Good evening, Miss Fry. How’re you today?”

“Much better now that the hole in my wall is all patched up and I don’t have federal agents knocking down doors.”

“I do apologize for that, Miss Fry. It was a… Chaotic time for everyone involved,” Peggy replied, trying to hide a frown behind her tightened lips.

“How may I help you, Miss Carter?”

“I was actually wondering if Angie was in. Miss Martinelli?”

“Miss Martinelli? She doesn’t… Oh,” Miriam’s face quickly changed from annoyance to that of sympathy. It was a look that Peggy had never seen in the entirety of her stay at the Griffith.

“Is something the matter?” It was that sudden change in expression that made her worry once more, just as she had in the diner.

“Miss Martinelli doesn’t live here at the Griffith anymore,” she spoke gently, as if she were preparing Peggy for the worst. “You… Did you not know?”

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t,” Peggy spoke up; trying to hide the mixture of confusion and hurt that began creeping along her face. “May I ask what happened?”

“It was a little while ago. I think maybe a month ago. Miss Martinelli was so excited about an audition she went to and you know how she gets when she’s excited. She was going on about a director or a producer of some sort absolutely loving her audition for a little stage show she was trying out for. He loved her so much he offered her a role in an upcoming film he was working on out there in Hollywood.”

She pushed her chair away from the counter, bending down below the wooden top. She pulled a box of files and envelopes from underneath, placing it atop the counter, and began sifting through the labels until she removed one envelope. “She left this for you, but I thought she would have told you something that big,” she added, handing Peggy the envelope before putting the box back beneath the counter.

“I’m sorry, Miss Carter,” Miriam offered.

“That’s quite alright. Thank you, Miss Fry. Have a lovely evening,” Peggy spoke quickly, before leaving and sitting herself down in the back of the cab that had been waiting for her.

Peggy couldn’t be angry with Angie. Peggy had left, without a number to call or an address to write to; just as she had every other time she went off on a mission. And now Angie had done the same. Peggy couldn’t be angry with her. She knew she was alive and well and that was far more than she could afford Angie.

Her hands fiddled with the envelope. Her own name was written across the front and ‘For English’ was written on the back flap. A weak smile played itself across Peggy’s lips as she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter within.

_“Dear English,_

_If you’re reading this, I’m probably already out in Hollywood. Can you believe it? Me in Hollywood. It’s all happened so fast. I was out for a little theater show and some hot shot producer was looking for someone for his film. He saw me in the theater and watched me audition and that was it. It’s my big break, Peg._

_I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I wanted to tell you all of this in person. Really, I did. I waited. And I kept waiting. I would have kept waiting if you asked. But I knew you’d be gone again when I got you back. Ma always said I should go out and have my adventure. Live my life to the full, you know? That I should grab the opportunities I can. I know it’s not an excuse, but Peg, I can’t keep waiting. I can’t keep waiting for you to slow down. I can’t ask you to do that. But I can’t keep waiting for you to love me back the way I love you. I’m so sorry, Peg. I am. More than I’d ever be able to say._

_Promise me one thing. You keep on being the woman I love, okay? Don’t let those federal boys pick on you. Show them whose boss. Knock them dead. And if you’re ever in Hollywood, look me up. Spies can do that, right?_  


_Always with love,_  
 _Angie_

_PS- ‘One half of me is yours, the other half yours_  
 _Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,_  
 _And so all yours.’_  
 _-The Merchant of Venice. You should read it. I think you’ll like it.”_

Peggy felt a few tears slip down her face. She couldn’t be upset with Angie. In reality, she was happy for her. She was happy she found her chance and seized it. What killed Peggy was knowing it was where Angie belonged and she had no right to stop the girl from reaching her dream. “Miss? You alright back there?” The cab driver peaked at her through his mirror, seeing the pained look on her face.

“Yes,” Peggy glanced at the eyes in the mirrors, wiping her cheek. She took one more at the Griffith, knowing it would the last. “I’m fine,” she added, tucking the letter into her purse. She gave the driver Howard Stark’s address, as it was where she was staying. The billionaire only popped in every now and then and felt it was a terrible waste of space, so he invited Peggy to stay there as long as she liked.

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

Weeks passed by and weeks soon became months and months blurred into years. Peggy watched Angie’s career bloom. The actress had made it; starring in film after film, even playing a spy in a noir film. When her mind would wander, Peggy would come up with elaborate different schemes and gestures to surprise Angie with, but it took every fiber of her being to let the woman live. Peggy convinced herself that Angie was safer that way. She wasn’t being put in constant danger or getting caught in the crossfire caused by Peggy’s work with the SSR. That’s how Peggy got through the years. She convinced herself that it was in both their best interests if Peggy let her go.

It wasn’t until Steve Rogers began visiting her bedside at the retirement home that she began second guessing herself. More often than not, it was like seeing Steve miraculously in one piece, right after the Battle in the Valkyrie. But sometimes she had been completely lucid, remembering conversations from his previous visits about the battle of New York and talk of aliens and her prying questions about Howard and how her self-proclaimed god-son Tony was. It was those visits that made her think of Angie. Because there was Steve Rogers, suddenly back from the dead, taking his second chance at life and rebuilding bridges. Why couldn’t she? She had to have mention this to Steve on an off day, because every now and then, he’d bring her old photo albums and journals and a few books, most by Shakespeare. But Steve never mentioned it or made a fuss about it, likely because it made Peggy smile on the hard days. Even when books began to pile up, but Peggy never once complained, so the nurses kept the stacks neat, always making sure her favourites were at the top of the piles.

Today was a lucid day. Peggy hadn’t been feeling particularly well, but knew Steve was bound to visit soon from all the post-it notes Steve would leave after his visits to help her keep track of everything on her bad days. She always enjoyed his company. Hearing of his adventures in the new world always brought a smile to her face. She heard the door creak open and looked to it, seeing Steve step through.

“Hey, Peg,” he smiled brightly.

“Steve.” Her smile became curiosity when she noticed Steve had remained in the crack of the door. Something was different and Peggy immediately picked up on it.

“I brought someone with me. I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

His smile never fell from his face as he opened the door completely and stepped off to the side. It took Peggy a moment to recognize the face, but as soon as they spoke, she knew.

“Hey, English.”

As a much older Angie Martinelli crept to Peggy’s bedside taking a seat in the chair that Steve would normally fill, Steve shared a nod with Peggy.

“Just remember you owe me a dance,” Steve shut the door as he waited in the hallway.

Neither was sure how long they sat there in silence, but Peggy had taken Angie’s hand in her own at some point and never let it go. They sat there, staring at each other, taking in the details of each other’s faces, until Angie spoke up.

“You got old.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have nearly as many wrinkles.”

Peggy’s laughter filled the room until that laughter hushed and became quiet whimpers, coughing, and another layer of silence. Angie gave her hand a soft squeeze and filled the silence with stories of her life and what happened once she made it to Hollywood and everything Steve had filled her in on. And to Peggy, for a moment, it felt like they were young again, sitting in the diner, as Angie excitedly babbled on while Peggy happily listened. But when that moment ended, Peggy’s eyes drifted to a few of the notes Steve had left around the room and she knew it was only a matter of time before she would forgot all of this.

“And I’ll tell ya, Peg, if you could see some of the crazy stuff they’re usin’ for films now, you’d be blown a-”

“I love you,” Peggy blurted it out without any warning or preparation. Angie became still, her face a cross between confusion and wonderment. “I should have told you that a very long time ago.” Her voice was weaved with sadness and tears began to rim her eyes, threatening to escape. “One half of me is yours, the other half yours. Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, and so all yours. I may not remember this tomorrow. But I want you to know that.”

Angie smiled widely, not paying any mind to her own tears.

“Oh, shut up, English. You talk too much.”

Angie had heard this before, just as she did every time she visited. Because they had both been right. Even when Angie had her, she was gone again. And Peggy never remembered.


End file.
